


Eleven Months of Life

by Qirunwei



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe – Animals, Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:23:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qirunwei/pseuds/Qirunwei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The twelfth month. I am remarkable.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eleven Months of Life

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [十一月](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/30068) by vai7v. 



> Author: Inspired by fanart by CanneDeBonBon, called the Birds and the Bees.   
> Picture link: http://cannedebonbon.deviantart.com/art/ST-The-Birds-and-the-Bees-306205032   
> Written as a gift to v.w.   
> Translator: The original author vai7v kindly gave me her permission to translate this. I did this in a fairly short time and I didn’t check it through afterwards. If you notice any incoherence or grammar or any kind of mistake, please feel free to comment to let me know.

THE FIRST MONTH

Spock’s stem wavered tentatively to keep his sight horizontally at the same level as the intruder, a light and graceful golden… “FLAP”!

Jim, the intruder, had obviously noticed Spock as well. He flew towards his face swiftly and embraced his… nose.

“Hey! Get off me!” Spock snapped as he blanked his mind from all the adjectives he had just used. He summoned all his logic to keep his shaking leaves from tossing the intruder away.

Not knowing what to do, Jim paused, “Um?” He asked, eyes nearly pressed to Spock’s.

“Get. Off.”

“God! A talking flower!” Jim screamed with excitement. Retreated from Spock, he did a flip in mid-air and landed neatly on a piece of smooth rock covered with moss three inches away.

“That was rude.”

“How can you say that?” Jim stared at him with wide eyes. His wings were flipping and it seemed like he was ready to throw himself at him again any moment. Spock watched with full alarm. “I am a bee. Aren’t I born to pollinate you?”

“You are not bee at all, but a morph _[1]_ , and you shouldn’t feed on nectar either. You should consume fruit juice.”

 

_[1]morph: A kind of butterfly._

THE SECOND MONTH

“Talk to me, Spock! How come all of you Vulcan plants are so cold and stubborn?”

“I would appreciate it if you could stop complaining about my home planet. How did you sneak onto the _Kobayashi Maru_? As far as I know, it’s a spaceship filled with bees.”

“I cheated.” Jim said, looking proud and cheerful, “Thank to those bureaucrats who look at files alone. I can buzz like a bee, too, besides. They’re still trying to find out what kind of mutated individual I am.”

“Good wits.”

“Don’t be so sarcastic. They make good companions, only better if they had brains. Plus, I managed to get Bones on board as well…”

“Bones?”

“My best friend, bestest. He’s a large woodpecker. You’ve ever seen him? He’s not as good-looking as I am though.”

THE THIRD MONTH

“How can you talk, Spock? Um, I mean, it’s not that easy for a plant to do, right?”

“I do not communicate with mouth. Within an appropriate ranch, I am able to communicate with all beings through mind-melding.”

“Amazing! So you aren’t speaking at all, but the words just flows into my mind?”

“You can say that,” Spock hesitated, and added, “…Jim.”

“What’s my mind like?” Jim asked hopefully. Afternoon sunshine fell on his wings, refracting a tiny spot of metallic colour right onto Spock. “Is it superb?”

“Indeed.” It was already an extremely high compliment for Spock to say, “and illogical.” He added.

 

 

THE FOURTH MONTH

“What are you doing, Spock?”

“I am meditating.” Spock opened one eye to look at him.

“Am I bothering you?”

“Among the many foolish questions you’ve asked, this one is the most. You come to me every day, as punctual as springtide. Why would today be an exception?”

Jim nodded with satisfaction, “That’s an interesting posture you have when you meditate, disk facing the valley and the leaves tangling with each other. Why do you meditate?”

“It is to gain knowledge, Jim. My body cannot travel, but the root grows constantly. The root touches every inch of soil, meets every winding stream and caresses every lost larva. The wind brings me wisdom from afar, with its fresh and moist breaths changing from day to night. As long as I am breathing, I have the ability to read them.”

“Beautiful.” Jim flew over to rest on Spock’s body. He made a swing with two of the slender leaves and was given the dagger eyes. “Then are you immortal, Spock?”

“Negative. Nothing stays unchanged and nothing escapes its completion. It is the same even for this planet.” However, comparing to the lifespan of a butterfly, my life seems almost like eternity. He didn’t say that aloud.

 

 

THE FIFTH MONTH

“Where is the rest of your kind, Spock?”

“Not in this valley, obviously.”

“Yes, um, but why did you alone choose here? You prefer drier climate, don’t you?”

“Affirmative.” Spock admitted, “I am not pureblood. It might concern my family. But no, I did not choose here, it was the flood.”

“I am sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. How my race sees me depends fully on my lineage. It is logical.”

“I get it, logic, I get it. But I feel sorry anyway, okay?”

“I am touched.” Spock fixed his gaze on Jim, “I lost my mother and the land I once resided in a complete catastrophe. However, I do not detest my present surrounding. My mother used to hold deep love for the mountains. She said that there often rains in the mountains thus colourful clouds can be seen flowing at different times. I have seen her shrieking over a piece of rosy cloud for a couple of times.” One could see the illogic in his eyes. “Maybe she chose here for me.”

“I like clouds,” Jim announced, “and I’ve kissed one of them.”

 

 

THE SIXTH MONTH

“We got to go, Jim.” Bones clung to the trunk with his sharp claws. With every peck, his head shook.

“You do, I don’t.”

“It’s not a joke!” Bones yelled at him and pecked the tree trunk furiously, making the leaves and branches shake. Jim held onto one of the leaves with all his strength or he would have fallen to the ground. “The ship will leave next month. Are you going to stay here for the rest of your life?”

“I don’t have much time, anyway.”

“What were you muttering?”

“Nothing. Bones, you’re doing the pecking too much strength. Be careful or you’ll get a concussion.”

“This is thinking! Concussion my ass.” Bones lowered his voice, “I know you’re tied to that flower, aren’t you? You like him. It’s all right. But don’t grow to love him.”

“I already have.”

“Then forget him! You’re not the same species, Jim! Vulcan has got a way too dry atmosphere. The temperature varies too greatly and the winter’s too cold. You won’t make it beyond this year if you stay.”

“And if I leave, will I get to live forever? Bones, I’m a butterfly. Nothing in my life means more to me than my flower.”

 

“You’re late.” Spock said.

“Yeah, and tired. Lend me your petal as a bed.”

 

 

THE SEVENTH MONTH

“The _Kobayashi Maru_ is leaving, Jim. Why are you still here?”

“I’m not going to leave you.”

“You should. Despite his temper, a really lousy temper indeed, but your friend holds the right opinion on this occasion. The winter on Vulcan is nothing like a suitable climate for you.”

“Neither is the winter on any planet.”

“You can have one of my seeds.” Spock suggested, “Take it and let it grow in a bottle, so you will have your own Spock.”

“Will you ever be frank with me, Spock?” Jim stamped on the petal and protested with unmatchable fury, “You’re my only love, and how dare you pretend you know nothing about it? Is it that as soon as I leave, you will shut your eyes and pretend I will live forever in the vast universe and endless time? I am a butterfly! Bones may extend my life, but for how long? Days? Months? Till I grow a beard? It would still be only a blip compared to your lifetime. I’ll soon end up in ashes. I am a butterfly.” He grieved at the words, “You have such wisdom, Spock. Have you ever heard a butterfly that outlived its eleventh month of life?”

“Jim.” Spock sighed, interrupting softly.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to be mean. It’s just…Bones is leaving, and I miss him.”

 

 

THE EIGHTH MONTH

Vulcan came to its time when the rain was most abundant. Jim sheltered himself under Spock’s leaves.

“It’s freezing.”

“Indeed.”

“Vulcan is the most boring planet I know.” Jim grumbled, “The rainy season is the greatest festival, yet it is celebrated by lighting ancient torches and sleeping like statues?”

“It is to show the respect for the ancient plant, the sopophorus bean _[2]_. You knew that.”

“Yeah. Bones gave me a few of them. It’s so damp in here. Can you close your petals around me?”

“Yes.”

 

_[2]the sopophorus bean: A shriveled bean with magical properties. It is an ingredient in potion-making in Harry Potter. Its juice is added into the Draught of Living Death potion to bring powerful sleep to the drinker. (from Harry Potter wikia)_

THE NINTH MONTH

The grassland beneath them had grown bare and yellow. The rainy season had finally passed, leaving all the streams gathered to form a tiny lake. Dim light was reflected by its peaceful surface.

Jim shook his wings to get rid of tiny dust, “I don’t think my eyes are as blue as they were.”

“Nonsense. They are beautiful. They are a handful of sea water filled with stars in a gentle night.”

“You could have been more convincing, Spock. Isn’t the sea on Vulcan green?”

“It is. But you forgot that my mother was not born on Vulcan. Back where she came from, the sea was blue.”

 

 

THE TENTH MONTH

“The last cricket in the grass died today.” Jim told Spock, “I did a farewell dance for him.”

“I saw it. It was fascinating, and inspiring.”

“It was the way I dreamt to die, Spock. Quick, neat, no unnecessary pain at all.” Jim was hanging upside-down under Spock’s flower, he stretched out two slim and long leaves to reach him carefully. “I am still a bit afraid of dying, though. There is so little time, and it’s not even enough for me to show you all the good in me.”

 

 

THE ELEVENTH MONTH

“Jim, are you asleep?”

“Not yet.”

“Try not to be.”

“That’s hard. Bones’ sopophorus bean works amazingly.” Jim folded his legs and spread himself on the petal, feeling the flower underneath him exceptionally warm, “Spock, are you crying?”

“I do not posses tear glands.” Spock replied, “It is the rain.”

“It’s scalding.” Jim agreed, “Vulcan is great. I’m so glad I stayed.” He tilted his head and swallowed down the rain, and stole a quick peck on Spock’s face. “You know that, Spock, thank you for letting me stay.”

 

 

THE FIRST DAY OF THE TWELFTH MONTH

Spock spread his petals flat. The sopophorus beans were laid on them one by one.

“The twelfth month. I am remarkable.”

“Indeed you are.”

“I can’t swallow it down anymore.” Jim said, “They are large, aren’t they?”

“Sleep, Jim.”

 

 

THE END


End file.
